Well, here we are again. The forth part of the “Welcome to Stocksvill” series. Now, those of you who are new to the site are going to probably say, “Forth part?”. Those who have been around however are probably going to say “What the fuck took so long?”.
Lol, can’t say I can blame anybody for either reaction. However, for those who are curious as to why it took so long for the forth installment in the series to come, I can give an explanation for that at least.
When I first started the stocksvill series, it was a long time ago. All the way back in 2001, the first part was posted. How this series came to be is a rather interesting tail that I shal begail you with, though I’m certain that there are those who have heard this story before.
Myself, Noeyes, and Marauder, all writers whose work you can find on the TMF and MTJ I believe, were all having a little discussion on ether tickling, religion, or probably both, when somebody came up with the idea to have a little competition between the three of us to do a story that mixed the two. My submission was the Stocksvill series.
I made two parts to what I have planned for a four part series. I’m not sure exactly why I stopped after the second part. If I had to guess, I would say something shiny caught my eye and I got distracted. I’m bad for that, particularly when I was younger. So, the Stocksvill series got put on hold for a while, which ended up being till 2008.
Come 2008 I was contacted out of the blue by MTJ who had praise for my work. Apparently someone on Tickletheater had made a “Series that were never finished” thread and my series was mentioned in it. By chance, I little while previous I had been absently plucking away at the unfinished third part in the series. This was enough to convince me to sit down and finish the series.
So, after I think a few months I finished the third part. It was about two thirds larger then the other previous parts, and I was pretty happy with how it turned out, as I was able to make a lot more character development in this part then I had bothered with the other two parts. Once it was up, I began to work on the forth part after taking a few weeks off to let my mind run over things. It was then that something happened.
I realized just how much I liked this series, and how the characters were growing in my mind, and believe me when I say growing. If this series works how I would like it to work, it will span the life of the four main characters from the age of 18/19 to possibly the age of 30, though time will tell. I can tell you though that at this point, the story will take them to the age of 25.
Because of all of this, I realized that my initial start to the series was less then satisfactory. Originally the story had been aimed at only being a four part series. However, as things stand now, it’s probably going to have a dosen more parts or so, and that’s not including the breaking down of parts, like how I broke down part three into two parts and will probably break part three down into three parts. I know, I know, confusing isn’t it?
Because of this though, I needed to reinvent the Stocksvill series, but still keep it all relevant and fitting together. Hence we have part 4. This part is, in more then a few ways, the reinvention of the series. It still very closely follows the other three parts, mixing the same day between the four characters, but it goes considerably more into detail of the characters, customs, and places of Stocksvill. In essence, I’m trying to create a living, breathing town, with its own living breathing inhabitants.
I would also like to take a moment to give thanks to MTJ and Ace Riley, possibly two of the biggest fans of the series who always give me responses I can’t wait to see, Magicshoes, who made the initial thread that got me pretty much back in the game, and RedMage for taking the time and effort to edit my story. Without further delay, here is the first part. Enjoy!
Oh, and here are some links for the previous parts
Welcome to Stocksvill Chapter One
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=2969
Welcome to Stocksvill Chapter Two
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=1543
Welcome to Stocksvill Chapter Three
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=120653
Stocksvill chapter 4
6:30 AM
“Thirty-two…thirty-three…” Gloria lay on the floor, doing crunches. It wasn’t easy looking like her. Being a head cheerleader wasn’t an easy job. A lot of people looked at her and just assumed she was born this way.
Of course, there was some truth to that. Gloria had been blessed with her mother’s genes. She was attractive, athletic, and had developed a rather impressive pair of D-cup breasts that had gotten more than a few boys' attention. They weren’t as impressive as her mother, Dawns, DD-cup breasts, but they could still get bigger, and even if they didn’t they still looked pretty damn good on her frame.
Dawn also worked out in the little gym they had set up in the basement of their home. She wasn’t as regular as she used to be, but while Gloria had been growing up Dawn had gotten Gloria up every morning starting at the age of eight to work out together. It had been something akin to mother daughter bonding time, and Dawn had bestowed upon Gloria the drive and habits of staying fit and sculpting one's body.
It had been one of the few good parenting traits that Dawn possessed. Not that Dawn was a bad mother. Gloria would never think that. But, certainly there were…things that grated on Gloria.
Gloria had what most would call “The Cool Parent.” Perhaps it was because of the death of her father, or perhaps not. Gloria could barely remember her father, he had died while she was so young. Whatever the case though, Dawn seemed to decide that she would be not only a mother, but one of Gloria’s “friends” as well. This of course made Dawn the “Cool Parent” in Gloria's circle of friends.
And without a doubt, there were perks that came with that. For example, when Mandy, Alicia, Rod, and herself had a few drinks, Dawn was cool with it. Hell, she had even gotten them some bottles once or twice, and all her friends knew that if one of them wanted to get smashed, and avoid the consequences of going home drunk, they could spend the night over at Gloria’s house, and Dawn would cover for them. Of course, that coverage didn’t go for all her friends, just Rod, Mandy, and Alicia. Though, if Gloria had asked nicely enough Dawn would probably cover for one of her other friends as well.
Oh course, there were downsides to having the “Cool Parent” as well. One of them being that Dawn had a tendency to act very young, either because she was trying to fit in with Gloria's friends or because that was her personality, Gloria wasn’t sure. Dawn had the ability to speak like a sage one moment, and behave like a child the next. However, borrowing Gloria’s clothing and listening to Gloria’s music was just the icing on the cake. There were other things that really chapped Gloria’s ass.
“Speaking of which…” Gloria finished up her crunches at ninety and hopped on the running machine. She cranked it up so she was at a nice even run, setting it up to increase in intervals every 2.5 minutes.
There was the time, for example, when Gloria and Dawn had gone to Toronto and ended up stopping at a bar for some food. Well, as it happened, the bar was having a wet T-shirt competition that night, and surprise, surprise, Dawn had entered. She had won too. Dawn even got a small trophy of a woman’s bust and a picture of her wearing a white T-shirt soaked through so you could see her nipples sticking through to prove it. Dawn had of course placed both in the trophy case in the living room, which always led to no small degree of embarrassment whenever Gloria showed off her athletics trophies.
Gloria could understand, at least to some degree, why her mother was proud about winning. Dawn was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women in Stocksvill. One of the top five even. And no doubt the hottest in the church, save perhaps Victoria, but that wasn’t really fair to her mother. Victoria had a certain something about her. This, plus her incredible looks, and her mannerism, made her the most attractive woman in Stocksvill.
However, once you got out of Stocksvill, there was a whole new world out there. And suddenly Dawn wasn’t as high on the food chain. Gloria could definitely see why her mother would be so proud of her accomplishment outside of the sleepy little hamlet of Stocksvill that was known as home. But she definitely didn’t have to put up the picture of her with her tits soaked and her nipples sticking out a mile and a half on display for everybody to see.
Like Rod, for example. Despite trying to remain angry at her mother, Gloria couldn’t help smile a bit at the image of Rod. Her interest in him didn’t really make a lot of sense. Sure, he was a nice enough guy, and had been her friend for like forever, and one of her best friends, at that. But he also didn’t really fit into the clique she belonged to, that being the Jocks, and the same clique Alicia was in. Rod seemed to be the odd man out in that particular department. Hell, even Mandy had what would be considered the “Nerd Clique” to hang with at school. Rod didn’t fit in any particular clique at school, which meant that, socially, he didn’t even show up in the hierarchy that was high school.
And yet he knew things about her that no other guy knew. Like she wet the bed until she was seven. Or that she loved Barry White music. That her favorite color was sky blue. That she couldn’t eat with chopsticks to save her life, but always tried anyway whenever they were at a Chinese place, until she got frustrated, threw the chopsticks on the floor, and asked for a fork.
He knew her fears, like she’d never get out of this town, something she had seemed to want to do since she was little. She wasn’t sure how she'd make it, but she didn’t want to get stuck here, working as a secretary for the furniture factory or something like that for the rest of her life. It wasn’t like Stocksvill was a bad place. It just lacked any real reason for her to stay.
But knowing all of that and being a nice guy had never made Rod into anything more than a good friend. Gloria knew what did though. She remembered exactly when Rod went from being a very good friend to something else. Something special and precious to her.
Gloria had been 15, almost 16, and had gone to a bush party. Mandy couldn’t show up, and Alicia, never a big partier, had declined. Rod however was more than happy to go. When they had gotten to the party, Gloria set about drinking an ungodly amount of beer. This resulted in her becoming very drunk very quickly. In less than an hour she was totally wasted.
Even at the tender age of 15, Gloria had been rather attractive and well developed, so it wasn’t surprising that in her inebriated state, one of the larger senior guys at the party tried to pick her up, and no doubt wanted to fuck her in the woods a short distance from the party. And to Gloria, at that point, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. He was after all a rather handsome and muscular male, part of the football team, and all that beer had left her feeling more than a little horny. What could be the harm?
It was then that Rod came to her rescue. He had been mingling in the party, as best he could, when he saw what was happening and quickly interceded. Of course, this did not set well with the football player, and after several minutes , Rod was delivered a black eye courtesy of a rather large fist attached to that jock.
Given the huge differences in size, Rod didn’t have a chance in the fight, but he stood his ground. Fortunately for Rod it was at just that moment that the police arrived, causing the teenagers to go scurrying into the surrounding woods like rats abandoning a sinking ship. Rod had taken a firm grip of Gloria’s hand and led her through the woods (no easy feat given how drunk she was), and back to her house.
Dawn was not home that night, having gone to Barrie for one reason or another. So Rod had taken Gloria to her bedroom and put her to bed. Gloria for her part had stubbornly demanded that Rod sleep in her bed with her. Rod had politely declined, but Gloria just kept getting out of the bed until Rod finally conceded and slipped into the bed with her.
Gloria was still drunk and horny though, and for the next hour she made multiple passes at Rod, ranging from gently pressing herself against him, to trying to kiss him, to finally reaching over and giving his crotch a squeeze. This seemed to be the last straw for Rod, and he gave her an ultimatum. Either she settled down and went to sleep, or he’d leave. Gloria agreed to be good, though she did cuddle up with him before falling asleep. She decided she’d properly thank Rod in the morning, and in Gloria’s mind, properly thanking Rod entailed either a blow job, or a full mount.
Come morning though, she was too busy throwing up to do much thanking at all. Rod had spent his morning babysitting her, holding her hair and rubbing her back in a soothing manner while she threw up, and getting her water and toast once she was able to hold anything down.
It was at that point that Gloria had developed feelings for Rod. When she truly realized what type of man he was. Almost any guy she knew at the time would have either bedded her in an instant or simply left her to her suffering, as she rightly deserved. Rod hadn’t though, and he never spoke a word of it to Mandy or Alicia, or even chastised Gloria for it, who already felt bad enough about Rod getting his black eye. She truly realized how special a man Rod was. And she hoped that he would come to feel about her the way she felt about him.
But he hadn’t. Gloria’s face darkened as she cranked the machine up several notches so she was now sprinting to keep up with it. And Gloria blamed that fact on her mother. Rod had almost always had a case of puppy love when it came to Dawn -- something, in all fairness, that Gloria hadn’t cared much about until she had developed feelings for him herself. And then she had really cared, her feelings turning from irritation to insecurity, and then to anger directed mainly at her mother, but also a bit towards Rod. She had never said anything though. Whenever the subject came up, she would laugh, or playfully tease Rod, but inside she was always angry.
Now, Rod’s obvious interest in his mother was to be expected. Gloria knew that. However, her mother didn’t need to seem to return the interest. Everyone, including Gloria, had gotten massive amounts of tickling growing up, though in the house of a nun of the church, it only made sense. Rod tended to get more than anybody else though, as a rule. Aside from tickling Rod whenever she had the chance, she would always give him little winks, wear extremely revealing clothing around him (like that white dental floss she called a bathing suit) and just seemed to go out of her way to make sure plenty of sexual innuendos were dropped in his direction. Dawn had always been a flirt, and indeed Gloria had learned the art from her mother and was known as a bit of a flirt as well, but for some reason Dawn always seemed to lay it on heavy with Rod. Meanwhile any attempts at flirting Gloria made towards him were seemingly ignored or quickly forgotten.
“Why….why her…” Gloria grit her teeth, her anger building. She turned the machine up more, so that her legs were burning with the effort of keeping up. Why didn’t Rod see her? Dawn was only playing with him, so why couldn’t he see what was right in front of him? Why-
“Dear, you should really take your shower now.”
The sudden distraction of her mother’s voice caused Gloria to stop in her tracks, her head turning to look at her mother who was dressed up in her nun’s habit. Unfortunately for Gloria, even though she stopped, the running machine had decided to, well, continue running.
Gloria suddenly found herself falling forward as her legs shot out from under her. She managed to put her arms out in front of her (she had always had good reflexes) but it wasn’t enough to stop her from doing a face plant into the running machine's track and then being less than graciously shot off of it and unto the floor. She quickly curled into a ball holding her forehead. “Ow, ow ow ow!”
“You know, that’s not how you’re supposed to use the machine hon.” Dawn commented, still standing in the doorway of the exercise room, obviously not too concerned about Gloria's injury.
Gloria didn’t respond, just lifted up her left arm while the right still held her forehead and extended the middle finger of her left hand.
“That’s my girl.” Dawn grinned. “Breakfast will be ready in 15, so hurry up pumpkin.”
“Right, right,” Gloria waved her away, still clutching a hand to her head. She heard her mother leaving the room, and after a few moments got up. She looked at her hand. No blood. Not too surprising, though it still stung like hell. She gave a huff, and got up, headed for the showers.
6:45 AM
“Eat up dear, or we’re going to be late.” Dawn said, placing a plate of buttermilk pancakes in front of Gloria as she sat down. Dawn had already eaten and was casually drinking a glass of milk. Most of the time Dawn didn’t cook breakfasts, but she always did on Sundays.
“Late?” Gloria raised an eyebrow. Dawn always did this on Sundays. She would always drive them early to church. Not so Dawn could get an early start on the day, but because she could punch in while few were around, then get an extra hours worth of pay for doing pretty much nothing, a fond pastime for Dawn. It wasn’t so much that Dawn was lazy, she just didn’t like to do work unless she had to and had become quite adept at ducking out of the work she was given. OK, yes, she was lazy.
“Yes, late, now eat up sweetie.” Dawn smiled, circling around Gloria casually, before letting one of her hands dip down and stroke Gloria on her lower left ribs, a touch that was devastating for Gloria, causing her to jump in her seat.
“Ahaha stoppit!” Gloria said, jumping and squirming while her mother just chuckled and walked back around her to lean up against the kitchen counter and drink her milk. Gloria gave her mother a smoldering stare, but Dawn simply smiled back and gave her daughter a playful wink. “You know, one of these days, I’m going to get you back so bad…”
“You’re welcome to try anytime you like dear.” Dawn smiled at Gloria, not a look of concern touching her face for a moment. “You know where I live.”
“Grrr…” Gloria growled before turning her eyes back to her pancakes. It just wasn’t fair. Gloria knew Dawn was just as ticklish as her, which was to say very ticklish, and ticklish pretty much everywhere. Sadly for Gloria though, Dawn was a black belt tickler, as far as they went. Gloria could dish it out as well as she could take it when it came to tickling, but the same applied to her mother, and to a much bigger degree. Not too surprising really, as according to Dawn members of the church tended to get tickled on a fairly frequent bases. However, it did mean that when it came to a straight up tickle fight with her mother, the result was always the same. Even if she launched a sneak attack, Gloria would end up being held or pinned down in some way, and having the piss almost tickled out of her by her mother (and on some occasions she had literally had the piss tickled out of her too, much to her humiliation) until she said uncle or Dawn had enough fun.
But enough thought about that. Gloria set about the task of eating her food, and she had to admit, at the moment, she was very hungry. She slapped an unhealthy dose of butter on her pancakes and then poured on the syrup. Despite her mother’s flaws, it had to be said that was Dawn was an incredible cook. Dawn’s mother, Gloria’s grandmother, had known the art of cooking and had imparted that wisdom with great vigor to Dawn, who in turn, had given that teaching to Gloria, though Gloria wasn’t quite as good a cook as her mother, but then her training was far from over.
Part of that reason was that the Rose family didn’t believe in cookbooks. Recipes were taught and practiced to perfection by memory, taste, smell, and texture. This meant that it could take weeks to months to figure out and remember the perfect recipe. And considering how many recipes there were, that could take a lot of time. Add the fact that nearly everything had to be made from scratch, and you had a lot of room for recipe mistakes.
Gloria remembered the little speech Dawn had given her the day her cooking training officially began. “Gloria, my dear, today is going to be your first day learning how to cook. A lot of people think that cooking is as simple as putting some meat on a Barbecue or throwing some potatoes in a pot. But we know better. Cooking is an art, and today you’re going to start to cook like an artist.”
And her mother was right: there was an art to cooking, an art her mother had mastered years ago. And as much as she loved her mother's cooking there was always a bitter-sweetness to it. The incredible taste of her mother's cooking reminded Gloria of how far she had to go before she attained that level.
Gloria hated the fact that she was always comparing herself to her mother and finding herself falling short. Rationally, she knew it wasn’t Dawn’s fault. Dawn had always been supportive of Gloria. And yet, due to Gloria’s own insecurities, she couldn’t help it. She loved her mom and resented her at the same time. She hated it.
“Better eat up dear; we’re going to be late.” Dawn said absently as she looked at her wristwatch. “Five minutes left to eat and then we need to get going unless we want to rush.”
“Right, right.” Gloria said in an absentminded tone, but she did hurry up. Dawn getting in late to swipe in always put her in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Particularly if her tardiness resulted in penance. The church in Stocksvill was different than many other churches in Canada. For example, it wasn’t listed as a church. As far as the government was concerned, the church in Stocksvill was a registered historical site for the community, and the community was fine with that. It wasn’t that the good people of Stocksvill were embarrassed about their religious practices. They simply did not wish to advertise them, as they were well aware of the way the outside world would view them. A church that tickled people as a means of cleansing their sins. They really didn’t need that attention.
Because of that, and for some other reasons, being a member of the church was treated more like a job than anything else. Church members had punch cards and were paid by the town treasury, just like the church's repairs and annual budget were paid for by the town. Gloria wasn’t 100% sure, as the pay for those who worked in the church was a fairly well-guarded secret, but from what she could figure out her mother probably made somewhere between $22.00- $25.00 a hour and all figures of the church spent 40 hours a week there. They weren’t all there at the same time, save perhaps on Sunday, but they all remained fairly active. The church always took part in various events around the town, Christmas and Easter especially. They also kept the church running 24/7, had a hotline for people who needed to talk to them with a little more anonymity, and even had a few members of the church who would go to the public high school for a few Religious courses.
“All done.” Gloria said, getting up from the table and giving her plate and utensils a quick rinse before putting them in the washing machine. Her mother was a bit of a Nazi about that. Of course, if the machine did the work, Dawn wouldn’t have to, so it all made perfect sense.
“OK, good, good, let’s go.” Dawn said, sounding cheerful enough as she made a dash out of the kitchen and towards her car.
Gloria followed, once her dishes were clean and in the dish washer. As she walked through the living room, she stopped for a moment and looked at the display case above the fire place. In the case stood the remnants of “Moses”. No, not the Jew who died thousands of years ago and freed the rest of the Jews from Pharaoh. This was another Moses. This Moses was an axe, or more correctly the shards of an Axe. It had been hand forged by Angus McPhinny, a bear of a man and one of the few Catholics in town, for her father, Alexander Rose.
Angus was an east coaster, and one of the few people that lived in Stocksvill that had not been born into it. There were more than a few stories of how Angus wound up in Stocksvill. Some said that he started a particularly intense drinking session in Newfoundland, and when he was sober again he had found himself in Stocksvill with a store. Others say that he was simply looking for a place to open a store and Stocksvill is where he wound up. Nobody really knew, but given Angus’s drinking habits either story was very believable.
Whatever the case, one thing nobody could dispute was that Angus was an incredible blacksmith. He sold many well known name brand supplies out of his shop, but he also had a smithy set up in back, and in that metal work shop he had seemed to discover a recipe for a particularly durable steel, called Newphy Steel. And with that metal he had forged Moses and its brother axe Aaron, which currently belonged to Tad Tylor, Gloria’s on-again, off-again, ad nauseam, boyfriend. Nobody understood how, but it seemed that the hand crafted axes made with Newphy Steel, cut better and faster then any that could be bought.
Tad was the son of Darby Tylor, who had apparently been, for many years, the rival of her father. However, despite their continued feud Alexander and Darby had eventually earned each other's respect and had become the best of friends.
More than a few people referred to Alexander's death as an accident, and that was partially true. Certainly nobody could control the forces of nature, so referring to it as an accident was perfectly acceptable. Of course, to Gloria, it was much more a tragedy than accident.
It had been many years ago, when Gloria had just been a child. There had been a horrible storm. The founders of Stocksvill obviously had not expected floods. There was a wooden dam, but nobody had ever expected Nero Lake to overrun that dyke. Yet on that day, with the rain pouring down, it seemed as though the rain would destroy the dyke.
Her father though, and Darby Tyler, Tad’s father and her father's best friend, ran to the dyke and began cutting down trees to reinforce the dam. As Alexander’s and Darby’s last strikes struck the final remaining tree, a bolt of lightning descended from the sky, hitting the Alexander’s axe. Both her father and Darby died, but the final tree fell, and was just enough to stop the dyke from bursting. They had been buried side by side, the word “HERO” engraved on both of their tombstones.
Gloria sighed. Hero? Maybe. She didn’t want a martyr though. She just wanted a father. But, she supposed that just wasn’t in the dice. Dawn had never dated in all the years since Alexander's death, and it wasn’t because she wasn’t sought after by some of the men of Stocksvill either. She just seemed to love her deceased husband too much to marry again.
Gloria’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a horn blaring. Shit. She kissed her middle and index finger quickly and touched it to the glass of the display case quickly before she ran out the door. Her mother was sitting in the driver’s seat of her red and white striped Mustang GT waiting for her. Dawn always had a thing for muscle cars, despite the gas prices.
“Let’s go let’s go let’s go.” Dawn chided her daughter as Gloria slipped into the front passenger’s seat. She didn’t even have her seat belt on as Dawn threw it in reverse and backed up. Once Dawn was backed up unto the road at a ridiculously reckless speed, she slammed the car into first gear, spinning the tires, and shot off.
“Let’s just hope I’m not late. I think well be OK though.” Dawn made a sharp turn causing Gloria to slide a bit in her seat. Dawn pulled down the sun guard, shielding her eyes from the early morning sun. On the sun guard was a a drawing of a busty woman in a short skirt and revealing top. The caption below it read “Once you go Lambda Epsilon Zeta, you don’t go back!”
Ah, yes, Lambda Epsilon Zeta, more commonly referred to as L.E.Z., Dawn’s old sorority. Yup, her mother was a L.E.Z. and Gloria had heard enough jokes about that to last her a lifetime and then some. Even so she forgot from time to time. Her mother went to university and became a sorority member. She had spent three years of her life there, training to be a nurse. And then, Gloria had happened. Her mother had needed to drop out and come back to the town with her father to raise her.
Dawn had never said anything about it, but Gloria couldn’t help wondering sometimes if Dawn blamed Gloria for how her life turned out. Sure, she seemed happy as a nun, but she must wonder sometimes how her life would have turned out if she hadn’t gotten unexpectedly pregnant. Gloria knew she did…
6:55 AM
The mustang approached the church, and Gloria looked at it while her mother toyed with the radio. Ah, the church. Her church. The First order of Vellicathology (pronounced VeL-leh-Cath-all-O-gee) Yup, that’s right. Gloria was a Vellicathologist. Now, what was a Vellicathologist? Pretty much anybody outside of Stocksvill wouldn’t have a clue what that name meant, and by all rights she couldn’t blame them. As far as Gloria knew, this was the only church in the world that used tickling as a means to cleanse sins. As her mother often remarked, they belonged to the kinkiest Church in Canada. While Gloria didn’t really care to think of her church as “Kinky,” she did have to agree that there probably was only one church around like theirs.
Those who were interested in such things debated how and why the church had adopted such methods. Some claimed that the head priest of the church at the time, some 200 years ago, had adopted the practice after realizing that other means of cleansing, such as using a whip, had a tendency to leave wounds which would sometimes get infected. Tickling was chosen to replace such barbaric practices and save the person being cleansed from worry about risk to their health after the cleansing process.
Other people, like her mother, just said that that early priest was a “kinky bastard” and had a tickling fetish. Ultimately it didn’t matter though, as while there might be debate as to the origins of the church's practices, nobody seemed to take any issue with the actual practice itself.
Whatever the case, once tickling had been adopted officially as the means to cleanse people of their sins, the Christian faithful of Stocksvill (no one today remembered their denomination) officially changed the name of their faith to Vellicathology. The name was an intelligent combination of the words Vellicate, meaning “To tickle,” and Cathology (though the church had never been directly related to the Catholic church, even if it had some of the same practices). And so, Vellicathology was born.
“Late, late, late, late…” Dawn said to herself as she drove pulled into the church. Of course, she wouldn’t be late. She wasn’t due for another hour. And hell, they always had a five minute grace for the swipe cards, so she’d still be on time for her hour of “Overtime.” But that fact didn’t seem to stop Gloria’s mother from worrying. How her mother became a nun…Gloria just shook her head grinning.
“What are you smiling about, missy?” Dawn asked, giving Gloria a sidelong glance.
“Oh, nothing. I just sometimes wonder how you’d manage in a real church.” Gloria grinned at her mother.
“I imagine I’d have to give the preacher more blowjobs than the altar boys.” Dawn commented with a straight face.
“Jesus mom!” Gloria cried out, trying not to grin as she did. That was typical of her mother. Aside from having no compunctions about saying some of the raunchiest, most politically incorrect things imaginable and constantly stepping over the line of decency, Dawn seemed to take great joy in taking as many swipes at both religion and her own faith as possible.
“Sorry, sorry.” Dawn grinned, though her eyes stayed focused on the driveway ahead of her. “This should do.” Dawn pulled into the handicap parking of the church.
“Mom, this is for the crippled people!” Gloria hissed as her mom came to a stop.
“And I’m emotionally crippled.” Dawn said without even blinking an eye before she pulled into the handicapped spot. “They don’t give out little signs you can hang on your car for that.”
“And what if Officer Brown shows up? You know he goes to church every Sunday right?” Gloria pointed out as she stepped out of the car. Officer Brown was basically the sheriff of the town. Stocksvill had only a small police force, about twelve men and four women. Of course, since nothing ever really happened in Stocksvill save for the occasional act of teenage vandalism and fights, it really didn’t need a large police force.
“Just flash your tits at him or something,” Dawn replied, dismissing Gloria’s warning.
“Unlike you, I don’t flash my tits at every man I see.” Gloria paused, getting a look from her mother. “Well, OK, maybe if they’re cute or I’m cheerleading, but that’s different.”
“Just keep telling yourself that hon.” Dawn grinned at her daughter. “Hey, look, don’t knock your knockers.” Dawn tapped her own ample chest. “These girls made sure I didn’t buy a single drink all through university. Hell if I had a dollar for every time these caught a guy's attention…well, I’d probably have enough to buy another pair.”
“If they keep sagging the way they have over the last few years, you’ll need to,” Gloria snickered, just loudly enough to carry.
“What was that?” Dawn snapped.
“Oh, you better hurry, or you’re going to be late.” Gloria held up her wrist watch.
“Shit!” Dawn burst into a sprint for the large double doors of the church. “Out of the way, church business!” she cried out as she nearly knocked over an elderly couple.
Gloria laughed, shaking her head. Yes, her mother the nun. How inspirational she was. Watching her mother run through the large twin doors of the church, Gloria took a few steps back to get a better look at the monolithic building that was the church of Stocksvill.
The church had existed almost as long as the town, though it had gone through so many renovationse that little remained of the original building. The earliest version of the church, according to the town historian, was made of wood and big enough for maybe a hundred people in a pinch. Nowadays it was made of brick and could hold as many as 450 people. The building was two stories in height, with two levels for people to sit in, so there was enough room for everybody and they could see the person, usually the mother superior Victoria, giving the weekly sermon.
“And now children, we place the flowers in the ground, like so.” A deep, baritone voice could be heard. Gloria whirled about to her right, smiling. She knew that voice.
“Like this?” A small child, about the age of seven was digging a small hole in the ground. Several other children stood near him, each one with a potted rose.
“That’s right, just like that,” said a large man in a priest’s uniform. Gloria’s smiled broadened. It was Father Louis Stone. Father Stone was a man in his mid forties, and one of the most religious men in town. He was a giant of a man. His only rival in physique and religious devotion was Angus McPhinny. Father Stone's head was clean-shaven, with a black handlebar mustache on his face. He had apparently been in the Canadian Armed Forces for several years, winning more than a few strongman competitions. He was quite the outdoorsman too, being knowledgeable in survival techniques, and usually integrated them flawlessly in his many nature walks with the children as he talked to them about god.
“And, so god is in the flowers?” asked a small girl of about six. She was a cutie for sure.
“God is in all things, child.” Father Stone went to one knee beside her and gave her a slight pat on the head. “God is in the trees, in the wind, in the earth and all it’s many creations. God is even in me and you, though you might not always feel it. However, if you ever doubt that, just remember one thing…” Father Stone stood up, his massive and almost 7 foot tall frame towering over the small girl. With startling speed for a man of such size, Father Stone reached up with both his hands and grabbed a hold of two drawstrings that were situated at either side of his frock's collar. With one massive yank, the frock's collar suddenly expanded until it simply fell off of Father Stone's body, revealing his powerfully muscular bare torso and the jeans he wore underneath as the frock pooled at his feet below.
“LOOK! LOOK AT THESE RIPPLING MUCLES! DO YOU SEE HOW PERFECTLY THEY ARE SHAPED AND PROPORTIONED?” Father Stone's voice, now booming as he bent over slightly, his arms coming together and posing, the muscles on his body rippling and tightening in response to the pose. “ONLY GOD COULD CREATE SOMETHING AS MAGNIFICIANT AS THIS! IF YOU EVER DOUBT IN GOD, THEN REMEMBER THESE POWERFUL PECTORALS, MASSIVE BICEPS, AND IRON FIRM ABS!” As he spoke he took a new pose to show off each muscle group, and the children “ooed” and “ahhed” in response, looking over the hulking man.
Gloria couldn’t help but grin. Father Louis Stone was a bit much, his devotion to God was almost as close as his devotion to bodybuilding. He strongly believed in 1 Corinthians 6:20: “For ye are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's.”
He was a bit on the extreme side but once you got to know him he was a real gentle giant, save when competing with Angus McPhinny. Their fights and competitions were legendary in the town.
Gloria had actually had a bit of a crush on Father Stone when she was younger. Even then he was tearing off his frock and
showing off his muscles. While the church had tried to get him to stop, it quickly became apparent that was not going to happen, so they figured out a design that would let him take his frock off without actually tearing it off. After that pretty much everyone was happy.
“Oh for the love of Peter, Louis, put your frock back on!” Dawn cried out as she walked up beside Gloria.
“I apologize. I was just showing these children the magnificence of God.” Father Stone said, picking his frock back up and sliding it back over his body.
“Whatever. Just keep it in your frock.” Dawn gave Louis a dismissive wave and started back towards the car, Gloria walking with her. “I swear, I don’t know how they let him teach the Sunday school with the children and not be afraid of lawsuits.”
“Father Stone is harmless. And the children love him. And God have mercy on any man, woman or creature that threatens his children.” Gloria smiled. It was true though. One of the many stories involving Father Louis Stone involved him lifting a young punk off his feet (after the clergyman had shed his shirt of course) when the guy had refused to watch his profanity around his children during a break from Stone's regular routine when he had taken them into town for ice cream. Several of the punk's friends took offense to that. Father Stone then told the children to go into the ice cream parlor, and he and the punks disappeared out of view around the side of the building. Gloria had actually been one of the children present during that experience, and while she had not seen any blood or fighting, she had watched as a garbage can, a stray cat, and a beaver (nobody was really sure where the beaver had came from) went flying from the side of the window out of the alley beside the store. A few minutes later, Father Stone had come back, his usual cheerful self, and took the children back to the church. Those punks decided after that to do one year worth of community service for the church (Father Stone actually helped them with this task, and apparently they all became good friends), and had lived their lives respectfully and productively afterwards. Even Dawn knew she had to be careful around Stone as far as his children were concerned, hence why she used the word “Peter” instead of “Fuck” or “Christ”. “Besides, I thought you liked large, muscular men.”
“I do, but with him, it’s like over exposure or something.” Dawn unlocked her car. “I’m going to move the vehicle to someplace a little less ticket friendly. I’ll see you after services honey.” Dawn paused mid-way opening her door. “Oh, hello Tad.” Dawn’s voice was neutral. However, to those who new her, Dawn didn’t have a neutral voice. Her voice only sounded neutral. And that voice was reserved for people she didn’t like, yet didn’t want to openly say she didn’t like. It was reserved for few people, Tad being one of them.
“Hello Miss Rose.” Came the familiar voice of Tad Taylor. Gloria turned around to see her boyfriend and several of his friends standing behind him.
Tad was a good looking guy. To be honest, he was gorgeous. He had deep blue eyes and short blond hair. He stood six feet tall and was well muscled, not to mention fast, as was required of the team quarterback. He was the king of the high school, and he knew it. On top of his arrogance he had a bad temper, and when angry he could be just downright nasty and mean. He wasn’t afraid to use his fists either, as far as other guys went, and was even meaner and more willing to fight if he had a few drinks in him. He had never hit Gloria though. Perhaps that was the one reason, save his good looks and social status, why they still dated on and off again. Yes, the high school hierarchy sucked, but it was where she was.
“Well, I’m going to find a parking spot. I’ll see you later.” Dawn ignored Tad calling her Miss Rose, something Dawn hated. Despite that fact that Tad’s father had been her husband's best friend, Dawn had always disliked both Tad and his mother. Of course, Tad’s mother was the biggest bitch in Stocksvill, so pretty much everybody disliked her.
“Hey babe, how’s my little Glory Hole doing?” Tad grinned, moving forward and wrapping his hands around the small of Gloria’s back, pressing her to him.
“Don’t call me that.” Gloria smiled, but she spoke through her teeth. She hated that nickname with a passion. Tad had given it to her after a particular incident that shall never be mentioned, and much to Gloria’s frustration it had stuck. At least nobody called Gloria that to her face, save Tad. He thought it was cute. She thought he was a dick for doing it despite her telling him not to. Ah, weren’t political unifications grand?
Tad for his part didn’t seem to be put off by Gloria’s thinly veiled anger, and leaned in for a kiss.
“Whoa now.” Gloria smiled, turning her head slightly to avoid Tad’s lips. Gloria knew Tad wasn’t going to kiss her as a form of affectionate greeting. It wasn’t his style. Tad was trying to kiss her for show for his posse, which meant it would be hard and sloppy as well as shallow. While Gloria did have a bit of an exhibitionist streak in her (no doubt inherited from her mother), she hated being used as a trophy. Of course, she couldn’t just come out and say that. High school politics dictated otherwise. “You’ll smear my lipstick.”
“You can put more on.” Tad leaned over again, not being one to be deterred easily. Tad was not used to being denied something and Gloria was one of the few people who were willing to say “no” to him.
“I don’t have anymore on me.” Her tone playful as she gave Tad a firm smack on the ass. That was a lie, and Tad knew that. He also knew though, that the little smack on the backside was a warning disguised as playful flirting. It was telling Tad that if he persisted, there was going to be a scene in front of his friends. Her little lie about the lipstick was her way of letting him save face, and when it came to high school, keeping face was essential. Yes, Gloria had gotten very good at high school politics.
“Heh, fine.” Tad let her go; smiling as though it had been his decision.
“So, what brings you to church?” Gloria looked at Tad innocently. Of course, she already had a pretty good idea, but she thought she would ask anyway.
Tad was part of the minority in town who weren’t Christian. Tad’s mother was a devout and very vocal atheist, despite the fact she had married Tad’s father who was Christian. She had made sure that her son was just as much an atheist and just as critical of the Christian faith as she was.
“I just thought we could hang out for a bit before you go to church.” Tad shrugged. Translation: Tad wanted a quickie. Or at the very least a blow job in the woods.
Gloria however, wasn’t in the mood. “Sorry Tad, but the guys are going to be here soon.” When she said “the guys”, there was little question as to whom she meant.
Tad frowned. He had never liked the fact that Gloria was so willing to associate with those “beneath her” in the high school social structure. Alicia was OK, as she was an athlete. Mandy was at least somewhat acceptable, because it was felt that the socially elite should be able to find an intelligent person to help them with school work, or in some cases, do the work for them. Rod, however, didn’t bring anything to the table as far as Tad was concerned. Hewas an albatross around Gloria’s neck that she refused to get rid of. Tad had always been hostile towards Rod, but it had never escalated too far because he was under Gloria’s protection. If that protection ever faltered though, Gloria was sure Tad would not hesitate to beat Rod up.
“So ditch them for a while. It’s not like you won’t see them in church.” Tad gave her his most charming smile, which truth be told, was very charming and had won him the hearts, and beds, of more than a few girls.
“I don’t ditch my friends.” Gloria’s eyes narrowed as she took a step forward and pressed a delicate finger into his muscled chest. She looked up at him, her eyes staring directly into his as she spoke. “I NEVER ditch my friends.” She didn’t say anything for a moment, letting her words sink in as she held his gaze. She then spun on her heel and walked off.
Lol, can’t say I can blame anybody for either reaction. However, for those who are curious as to why it took so long for the forth installment in the series to come, I can give an explanation for that at least.
When I first started the stocksvill series, it was a long time ago. All the way back in 2001, the first part was posted. How this series came to be is a rather interesting tail that I shal begail you with, though I’m certain that there are those who have heard this story before.
Myself, Noeyes, and Marauder, all writers whose work you can find on the TMF and MTJ I believe, were all having a little discussion on ether tickling, religion, or probably both, when somebody came up with the idea to have a little competition between the three of us to do a story that mixed the two. My submission was the Stocksvill series.
I made two parts to what I have planned for a four part series. I’m not sure exactly why I stopped after the second part. If I had to guess, I would say something shiny caught my eye and I got distracted. I’m bad for that, particularly when I was younger. So, the Stocksvill series got put on hold for a while, which ended up being till 2008.
Come 2008 I was contacted out of the blue by MTJ who had praise for my work. Apparently someone on Tickletheater had made a “Series that were never finished” thread and my series was mentioned in it. By chance, I little while previous I had been absently plucking away at the unfinished third part in the series. This was enough to convince me to sit down and finish the series.
So, after I think a few months I finished the third part. It was about two thirds larger then the other previous parts, and I was pretty happy with how it turned out, as I was able to make a lot more character development in this part then I had bothered with the other two parts. Once it was up, I began to work on the forth part after taking a few weeks off to let my mind run over things. It was then that something happened.
I realized just how much I liked this series, and how the characters were growing in my mind, and believe me when I say growing. If this series works how I would like it to work, it will span the life of the four main characters from the age of 18/19 to possibly the age of 30, though time will tell. I can tell you though that at this point, the story will take them to the age of 25.
Because of all of this, I realized that my initial start to the series was less then satisfactory. Originally the story had been aimed at only being a four part series. However, as things stand now, it’s probably going to have a dosen more parts or so, and that’s not including the breaking down of parts, like how I broke down part three into two parts and will probably break part three down into three parts. I know, I know, confusing isn’t it?
Because of this though, I needed to reinvent the Stocksvill series, but still keep it all relevant and fitting together. Hence we have part 4. This part is, in more then a few ways, the reinvention of the series. It still very closely follows the other three parts, mixing the same day between the four characters, but it goes considerably more into detail of the characters, customs, and places of Stocksvill. In essence, I’m trying to create a living, breathing town, with its own living breathing inhabitants.
I would also like to take a moment to give thanks to MTJ and Ace Riley, possibly two of the biggest fans of the series who always give me responses I can’t wait to see, Magicshoes, who made the initial thread that got me pretty much back in the game, and RedMage for taking the time and effort to edit my story. Without further delay, here is the first part. Enjoy!
Oh, and here are some links for the previous parts
Welcome to Stocksvill Chapter One
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=2969
Welcome to Stocksvill Chapter Two
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=1543
Welcome to Stocksvill Chapter Three
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=120653
Stocksvill chapter 4
6:30 AM
“Thirty-two…thirty-three…” Gloria lay on the floor, doing crunches. It wasn’t easy looking like her. Being a head cheerleader wasn’t an easy job. A lot of people looked at her and just assumed she was born this way.
Of course, there was some truth to that. Gloria had been blessed with her mother’s genes. She was attractive, athletic, and had developed a rather impressive pair of D-cup breasts that had gotten more than a few boys' attention. They weren’t as impressive as her mother, Dawns, DD-cup breasts, but they could still get bigger, and even if they didn’t they still looked pretty damn good on her frame.
Dawn also worked out in the little gym they had set up in the basement of their home. She wasn’t as regular as she used to be, but while Gloria had been growing up Dawn had gotten Gloria up every morning starting at the age of eight to work out together. It had been something akin to mother daughter bonding time, and Dawn had bestowed upon Gloria the drive and habits of staying fit and sculpting one's body.
It had been one of the few good parenting traits that Dawn possessed. Not that Dawn was a bad mother. Gloria would never think that. But, certainly there were…things that grated on Gloria.
Gloria had what most would call “The Cool Parent.” Perhaps it was because of the death of her father, or perhaps not. Gloria could barely remember her father, he had died while she was so young. Whatever the case though, Dawn seemed to decide that she would be not only a mother, but one of Gloria’s “friends” as well. This of course made Dawn the “Cool Parent” in Gloria's circle of friends.
And without a doubt, there were perks that came with that. For example, when Mandy, Alicia, Rod, and herself had a few drinks, Dawn was cool with it. Hell, she had even gotten them some bottles once or twice, and all her friends knew that if one of them wanted to get smashed, and avoid the consequences of going home drunk, they could spend the night over at Gloria’s house, and Dawn would cover for them. Of course, that coverage didn’t go for all her friends, just Rod, Mandy, and Alicia. Though, if Gloria had asked nicely enough Dawn would probably cover for one of her other friends as well.
Oh course, there were downsides to having the “Cool Parent” as well. One of them being that Dawn had a tendency to act very young, either because she was trying to fit in with Gloria's friends or because that was her personality, Gloria wasn’t sure. Dawn had the ability to speak like a sage one moment, and behave like a child the next. However, borrowing Gloria’s clothing and listening to Gloria’s music was just the icing on the cake. There were other things that really chapped Gloria’s ass.
“Speaking of which…” Gloria finished up her crunches at ninety and hopped on the running machine. She cranked it up so she was at a nice even run, setting it up to increase in intervals every 2.5 minutes.
There was the time, for example, when Gloria and Dawn had gone to Toronto and ended up stopping at a bar for some food. Well, as it happened, the bar was having a wet T-shirt competition that night, and surprise, surprise, Dawn had entered. She had won too. Dawn even got a small trophy of a woman’s bust and a picture of her wearing a white T-shirt soaked through so you could see her nipples sticking through to prove it. Dawn had of course placed both in the trophy case in the living room, which always led to no small degree of embarrassment whenever Gloria showed off her athletics trophies.
Gloria could understand, at least to some degree, why her mother was proud about winning. Dawn was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women in Stocksvill. One of the top five even. And no doubt the hottest in the church, save perhaps Victoria, but that wasn’t really fair to her mother. Victoria had a certain something about her. This, plus her incredible looks, and her mannerism, made her the most attractive woman in Stocksvill.
However, once you got out of Stocksvill, there was a whole new world out there. And suddenly Dawn wasn’t as high on the food chain. Gloria could definitely see why her mother would be so proud of her accomplishment outside of the sleepy little hamlet of Stocksvill that was known as home. But she definitely didn’t have to put up the picture of her with her tits soaked and her nipples sticking out a mile and a half on display for everybody to see.
Like Rod, for example. Despite trying to remain angry at her mother, Gloria couldn’t help smile a bit at the image of Rod. Her interest in him didn’t really make a lot of sense. Sure, he was a nice enough guy, and had been her friend for like forever, and one of her best friends, at that. But he also didn’t really fit into the clique she belonged to, that being the Jocks, and the same clique Alicia was in. Rod seemed to be the odd man out in that particular department. Hell, even Mandy had what would be considered the “Nerd Clique” to hang with at school. Rod didn’t fit in any particular clique at school, which meant that, socially, he didn’t even show up in the hierarchy that was high school.
And yet he knew things about her that no other guy knew. Like she wet the bed until she was seven. Or that she loved Barry White music. That her favorite color was sky blue. That she couldn’t eat with chopsticks to save her life, but always tried anyway whenever they were at a Chinese place, until she got frustrated, threw the chopsticks on the floor, and asked for a fork.
He knew her fears, like she’d never get out of this town, something she had seemed to want to do since she was little. She wasn’t sure how she'd make it, but she didn’t want to get stuck here, working as a secretary for the furniture factory or something like that for the rest of her life. It wasn’t like Stocksvill was a bad place. It just lacked any real reason for her to stay.
But knowing all of that and being a nice guy had never made Rod into anything more than a good friend. Gloria knew what did though. She remembered exactly when Rod went from being a very good friend to something else. Something special and precious to her.
Gloria had been 15, almost 16, and had gone to a bush party. Mandy couldn’t show up, and Alicia, never a big partier, had declined. Rod however was more than happy to go. When they had gotten to the party, Gloria set about drinking an ungodly amount of beer. This resulted in her becoming very drunk very quickly. In less than an hour she was totally wasted.
Even at the tender age of 15, Gloria had been rather attractive and well developed, so it wasn’t surprising that in her inebriated state, one of the larger senior guys at the party tried to pick her up, and no doubt wanted to fuck her in the woods a short distance from the party. And to Gloria, at that point, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. He was after all a rather handsome and muscular male, part of the football team, and all that beer had left her feeling more than a little horny. What could be the harm?
It was then that Rod came to her rescue. He had been mingling in the party, as best he could, when he saw what was happening and quickly interceded. Of course, this did not set well with the football player, and after several minutes , Rod was delivered a black eye courtesy of a rather large fist attached to that jock.
Given the huge differences in size, Rod didn’t have a chance in the fight, but he stood his ground. Fortunately for Rod it was at just that moment that the police arrived, causing the teenagers to go scurrying into the surrounding woods like rats abandoning a sinking ship. Rod had taken a firm grip of Gloria’s hand and led her through the woods (no easy feat given how drunk she was), and back to her house.
Dawn was not home that night, having gone to Barrie for one reason or another. So Rod had taken Gloria to her bedroom and put her to bed. Gloria for her part had stubbornly demanded that Rod sleep in her bed with her. Rod had politely declined, but Gloria just kept getting out of the bed until Rod finally conceded and slipped into the bed with her.
Gloria was still drunk and horny though, and for the next hour she made multiple passes at Rod, ranging from gently pressing herself against him, to trying to kiss him, to finally reaching over and giving his crotch a squeeze. This seemed to be the last straw for Rod, and he gave her an ultimatum. Either she settled down and went to sleep, or he’d leave. Gloria agreed to be good, though she did cuddle up with him before falling asleep. She decided she’d properly thank Rod in the morning, and in Gloria’s mind, properly thanking Rod entailed either a blow job, or a full mount.
Come morning though, she was too busy throwing up to do much thanking at all. Rod had spent his morning babysitting her, holding her hair and rubbing her back in a soothing manner while she threw up, and getting her water and toast once she was able to hold anything down.
It was at that point that Gloria had developed feelings for Rod. When she truly realized what type of man he was. Almost any guy she knew at the time would have either bedded her in an instant or simply left her to her suffering, as she rightly deserved. Rod hadn’t though, and he never spoke a word of it to Mandy or Alicia, or even chastised Gloria for it, who already felt bad enough about Rod getting his black eye. She truly realized how special a man Rod was. And she hoped that he would come to feel about her the way she felt about him.
But he hadn’t. Gloria’s face darkened as she cranked the machine up several notches so she was now sprinting to keep up with it. And Gloria blamed that fact on her mother. Rod had almost always had a case of puppy love when it came to Dawn -- something, in all fairness, that Gloria hadn’t cared much about until she had developed feelings for him herself. And then she had really cared, her feelings turning from irritation to insecurity, and then to anger directed mainly at her mother, but also a bit towards Rod. She had never said anything though. Whenever the subject came up, she would laugh, or playfully tease Rod, but inside she was always angry.
Now, Rod’s obvious interest in his mother was to be expected. Gloria knew that. However, her mother didn’t need to seem to return the interest. Everyone, including Gloria, had gotten massive amounts of tickling growing up, though in the house of a nun of the church, it only made sense. Rod tended to get more than anybody else though, as a rule. Aside from tickling Rod whenever she had the chance, she would always give him little winks, wear extremely revealing clothing around him (like that white dental floss she called a bathing suit) and just seemed to go out of her way to make sure plenty of sexual innuendos were dropped in his direction. Dawn had always been a flirt, and indeed Gloria had learned the art from her mother and was known as a bit of a flirt as well, but for some reason Dawn always seemed to lay it on heavy with Rod. Meanwhile any attempts at flirting Gloria made towards him were seemingly ignored or quickly forgotten.
“Why….why her…” Gloria grit her teeth, her anger building. She turned the machine up more, so that her legs were burning with the effort of keeping up. Why didn’t Rod see her? Dawn was only playing with him, so why couldn’t he see what was right in front of him? Why-
“Dear, you should really take your shower now.”
The sudden distraction of her mother’s voice caused Gloria to stop in her tracks, her head turning to look at her mother who was dressed up in her nun’s habit. Unfortunately for Gloria, even though she stopped, the running machine had decided to, well, continue running.
Gloria suddenly found herself falling forward as her legs shot out from under her. She managed to put her arms out in front of her (she had always had good reflexes) but it wasn’t enough to stop her from doing a face plant into the running machine's track and then being less than graciously shot off of it and unto the floor. She quickly curled into a ball holding her forehead. “Ow, ow ow ow!”
“You know, that’s not how you’re supposed to use the machine hon.” Dawn commented, still standing in the doorway of the exercise room, obviously not too concerned about Gloria's injury.
Gloria didn’t respond, just lifted up her left arm while the right still held her forehead and extended the middle finger of her left hand.
“That’s my girl.” Dawn grinned. “Breakfast will be ready in 15, so hurry up pumpkin.”
“Right, right,” Gloria waved her away, still clutching a hand to her head. She heard her mother leaving the room, and after a few moments got up. She looked at her hand. No blood. Not too surprising, though it still stung like hell. She gave a huff, and got up, headed for the showers.
6:45 AM
“Eat up dear, or we’re going to be late.” Dawn said, placing a plate of buttermilk pancakes in front of Gloria as she sat down. Dawn had already eaten and was casually drinking a glass of milk. Most of the time Dawn didn’t cook breakfasts, but she always did on Sundays.
“Late?” Gloria raised an eyebrow. Dawn always did this on Sundays. She would always drive them early to church. Not so Dawn could get an early start on the day, but because she could punch in while few were around, then get an extra hours worth of pay for doing pretty much nothing, a fond pastime for Dawn. It wasn’t so much that Dawn was lazy, she just didn’t like to do work unless she had to and had become quite adept at ducking out of the work she was given. OK, yes, she was lazy.
“Yes, late, now eat up sweetie.” Dawn smiled, circling around Gloria casually, before letting one of her hands dip down and stroke Gloria on her lower left ribs, a touch that was devastating for Gloria, causing her to jump in her seat.
“Ahaha stoppit!” Gloria said, jumping and squirming while her mother just chuckled and walked back around her to lean up against the kitchen counter and drink her milk. Gloria gave her mother a smoldering stare, but Dawn simply smiled back and gave her daughter a playful wink. “You know, one of these days, I’m going to get you back so bad…”
“You’re welcome to try anytime you like dear.” Dawn smiled at Gloria, not a look of concern touching her face for a moment. “You know where I live.”
“Grrr…” Gloria growled before turning her eyes back to her pancakes. It just wasn’t fair. Gloria knew Dawn was just as ticklish as her, which was to say very ticklish, and ticklish pretty much everywhere. Sadly for Gloria though, Dawn was a black belt tickler, as far as they went. Gloria could dish it out as well as she could take it when it came to tickling, but the same applied to her mother, and to a much bigger degree. Not too surprising really, as according to Dawn members of the church tended to get tickled on a fairly frequent bases. However, it did mean that when it came to a straight up tickle fight with her mother, the result was always the same. Even if she launched a sneak attack, Gloria would end up being held or pinned down in some way, and having the piss almost tickled out of her by her mother (and on some occasions she had literally had the piss tickled out of her too, much to her humiliation) until she said uncle or Dawn had enough fun.
But enough thought about that. Gloria set about the task of eating her food, and she had to admit, at the moment, she was very hungry. She slapped an unhealthy dose of butter on her pancakes and then poured on the syrup. Despite her mother’s flaws, it had to be said that was Dawn was an incredible cook. Dawn’s mother, Gloria’s grandmother, had known the art of cooking and had imparted that wisdom with great vigor to Dawn, who in turn, had given that teaching to Gloria, though Gloria wasn’t quite as good a cook as her mother, but then her training was far from over.
Part of that reason was that the Rose family didn’t believe in cookbooks. Recipes were taught and practiced to perfection by memory, taste, smell, and texture. This meant that it could take weeks to months to figure out and remember the perfect recipe. And considering how many recipes there were, that could take a lot of time. Add the fact that nearly everything had to be made from scratch, and you had a lot of room for recipe mistakes.
Gloria remembered the little speech Dawn had given her the day her cooking training officially began. “Gloria, my dear, today is going to be your first day learning how to cook. A lot of people think that cooking is as simple as putting some meat on a Barbecue or throwing some potatoes in a pot. But we know better. Cooking is an art, and today you’re going to start to cook like an artist.”
And her mother was right: there was an art to cooking, an art her mother had mastered years ago. And as much as she loved her mother's cooking there was always a bitter-sweetness to it. The incredible taste of her mother's cooking reminded Gloria of how far she had to go before she attained that level.
Gloria hated the fact that she was always comparing herself to her mother and finding herself falling short. Rationally, she knew it wasn’t Dawn’s fault. Dawn had always been supportive of Gloria. And yet, due to Gloria’s own insecurities, she couldn’t help it. She loved her mom and resented her at the same time. She hated it.
“Better eat up dear; we’re going to be late.” Dawn said absently as she looked at her wristwatch. “Five minutes left to eat and then we need to get going unless we want to rush.”
“Right, right.” Gloria said in an absentminded tone, but she did hurry up. Dawn getting in late to swipe in always put her in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Particularly if her tardiness resulted in penance. The church in Stocksvill was different than many other churches in Canada. For example, it wasn’t listed as a church. As far as the government was concerned, the church in Stocksvill was a registered historical site for the community, and the community was fine with that. It wasn’t that the good people of Stocksvill were embarrassed about their religious practices. They simply did not wish to advertise them, as they were well aware of the way the outside world would view them. A church that tickled people as a means of cleansing their sins. They really didn’t need that attention.
Because of that, and for some other reasons, being a member of the church was treated more like a job than anything else. Church members had punch cards and were paid by the town treasury, just like the church's repairs and annual budget were paid for by the town. Gloria wasn’t 100% sure, as the pay for those who worked in the church was a fairly well-guarded secret, but from what she could figure out her mother probably made somewhere between $22.00- $25.00 a hour and all figures of the church spent 40 hours a week there. They weren’t all there at the same time, save perhaps on Sunday, but they all remained fairly active. The church always took part in various events around the town, Christmas and Easter especially. They also kept the church running 24/7, had a hotline for people who needed to talk to them with a little more anonymity, and even had a few members of the church who would go to the public high school for a few Religious courses.
“All done.” Gloria said, getting up from the table and giving her plate and utensils a quick rinse before putting them in the washing machine. Her mother was a bit of a Nazi about that. Of course, if the machine did the work, Dawn wouldn’t have to, so it all made perfect sense.
“OK, good, good, let’s go.” Dawn said, sounding cheerful enough as she made a dash out of the kitchen and towards her car.
Gloria followed, once her dishes were clean and in the dish washer. As she walked through the living room, she stopped for a moment and looked at the display case above the fire place. In the case stood the remnants of “Moses”. No, not the Jew who died thousands of years ago and freed the rest of the Jews from Pharaoh. This was another Moses. This Moses was an axe, or more correctly the shards of an Axe. It had been hand forged by Angus McPhinny, a bear of a man and one of the few Catholics in town, for her father, Alexander Rose.
Angus was an east coaster, and one of the few people that lived in Stocksvill that had not been born into it. There were more than a few stories of how Angus wound up in Stocksvill. Some said that he started a particularly intense drinking session in Newfoundland, and when he was sober again he had found himself in Stocksvill with a store. Others say that he was simply looking for a place to open a store and Stocksvill is where he wound up. Nobody really knew, but given Angus’s drinking habits either story was very believable.
Whatever the case, one thing nobody could dispute was that Angus was an incredible blacksmith. He sold many well known name brand supplies out of his shop, but he also had a smithy set up in back, and in that metal work shop he had seemed to discover a recipe for a particularly durable steel, called Newphy Steel. And with that metal he had forged Moses and its brother axe Aaron, which currently belonged to Tad Tylor, Gloria’s on-again, off-again, ad nauseam, boyfriend. Nobody understood how, but it seemed that the hand crafted axes made with Newphy Steel, cut better and faster then any that could be bought.
Tad was the son of Darby Tylor, who had apparently been, for many years, the rival of her father. However, despite their continued feud Alexander and Darby had eventually earned each other's respect and had become the best of friends.
More than a few people referred to Alexander's death as an accident, and that was partially true. Certainly nobody could control the forces of nature, so referring to it as an accident was perfectly acceptable. Of course, to Gloria, it was much more a tragedy than accident.
It had been many years ago, when Gloria had just been a child. There had been a horrible storm. The founders of Stocksvill obviously had not expected floods. There was a wooden dam, but nobody had ever expected Nero Lake to overrun that dyke. Yet on that day, with the rain pouring down, it seemed as though the rain would destroy the dyke.
Her father though, and Darby Tyler, Tad’s father and her father's best friend, ran to the dyke and began cutting down trees to reinforce the dam. As Alexander’s and Darby’s last strikes struck the final remaining tree, a bolt of lightning descended from the sky, hitting the Alexander’s axe. Both her father and Darby died, but the final tree fell, and was just enough to stop the dyke from bursting. They had been buried side by side, the word “HERO” engraved on both of their tombstones.
Gloria sighed. Hero? Maybe. She didn’t want a martyr though. She just wanted a father. But, she supposed that just wasn’t in the dice. Dawn had never dated in all the years since Alexander's death, and it wasn’t because she wasn’t sought after by some of the men of Stocksvill either. She just seemed to love her deceased husband too much to marry again.
Gloria’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a horn blaring. Shit. She kissed her middle and index finger quickly and touched it to the glass of the display case quickly before she ran out the door. Her mother was sitting in the driver’s seat of her red and white striped Mustang GT waiting for her. Dawn always had a thing for muscle cars, despite the gas prices.
“Let’s go let’s go let’s go.” Dawn chided her daughter as Gloria slipped into the front passenger’s seat. She didn’t even have her seat belt on as Dawn threw it in reverse and backed up. Once Dawn was backed up unto the road at a ridiculously reckless speed, she slammed the car into first gear, spinning the tires, and shot off.
“Let’s just hope I’m not late. I think well be OK though.” Dawn made a sharp turn causing Gloria to slide a bit in her seat. Dawn pulled down the sun guard, shielding her eyes from the early morning sun. On the sun guard was a a drawing of a busty woman in a short skirt and revealing top. The caption below it read “Once you go Lambda Epsilon Zeta, you don’t go back!”
Ah, yes, Lambda Epsilon Zeta, more commonly referred to as L.E.Z., Dawn’s old sorority. Yup, her mother was a L.E.Z. and Gloria had heard enough jokes about that to last her a lifetime and then some. Even so she forgot from time to time. Her mother went to university and became a sorority member. She had spent three years of her life there, training to be a nurse. And then, Gloria had happened. Her mother had needed to drop out and come back to the town with her father to raise her.
Dawn had never said anything about it, but Gloria couldn’t help wondering sometimes if Dawn blamed Gloria for how her life turned out. Sure, she seemed happy as a nun, but she must wonder sometimes how her life would have turned out if she hadn’t gotten unexpectedly pregnant. Gloria knew she did…
6:55 AM
The mustang approached the church, and Gloria looked at it while her mother toyed with the radio. Ah, the church. Her church. The First order of Vellicathology (pronounced VeL-leh-Cath-all-O-gee) Yup, that’s right. Gloria was a Vellicathologist. Now, what was a Vellicathologist? Pretty much anybody outside of Stocksvill wouldn’t have a clue what that name meant, and by all rights she couldn’t blame them. As far as Gloria knew, this was the only church in the world that used tickling as a means to cleanse sins. As her mother often remarked, they belonged to the kinkiest Church in Canada. While Gloria didn’t really care to think of her church as “Kinky,” she did have to agree that there probably was only one church around like theirs.
Those who were interested in such things debated how and why the church had adopted such methods. Some claimed that the head priest of the church at the time, some 200 years ago, had adopted the practice after realizing that other means of cleansing, such as using a whip, had a tendency to leave wounds which would sometimes get infected. Tickling was chosen to replace such barbaric practices and save the person being cleansed from worry about risk to their health after the cleansing process.
Other people, like her mother, just said that that early priest was a “kinky bastard” and had a tickling fetish. Ultimately it didn’t matter though, as while there might be debate as to the origins of the church's practices, nobody seemed to take any issue with the actual practice itself.
Whatever the case, once tickling had been adopted officially as the means to cleanse people of their sins, the Christian faithful of Stocksvill (no one today remembered their denomination) officially changed the name of their faith to Vellicathology. The name was an intelligent combination of the words Vellicate, meaning “To tickle,” and Cathology (though the church had never been directly related to the Catholic church, even if it had some of the same practices). And so, Vellicathology was born.
“Late, late, late, late…” Dawn said to herself as she drove pulled into the church. Of course, she wouldn’t be late. She wasn’t due for another hour. And hell, they always had a five minute grace for the swipe cards, so she’d still be on time for her hour of “Overtime.” But that fact didn’t seem to stop Gloria’s mother from worrying. How her mother became a nun…Gloria just shook her head grinning.
“What are you smiling about, missy?” Dawn asked, giving Gloria a sidelong glance.
“Oh, nothing. I just sometimes wonder how you’d manage in a real church.” Gloria grinned at her mother.
“I imagine I’d have to give the preacher more blowjobs than the altar boys.” Dawn commented with a straight face.
“Jesus mom!” Gloria cried out, trying not to grin as she did. That was typical of her mother. Aside from having no compunctions about saying some of the raunchiest, most politically incorrect things imaginable and constantly stepping over the line of decency, Dawn seemed to take great joy in taking as many swipes at both religion and her own faith as possible.
“Sorry, sorry.” Dawn grinned, though her eyes stayed focused on the driveway ahead of her. “This should do.” Dawn pulled into the handicap parking of the church.
“Mom, this is for the crippled people!” Gloria hissed as her mom came to a stop.
“And I’m emotionally crippled.” Dawn said without even blinking an eye before she pulled into the handicapped spot. “They don’t give out little signs you can hang on your car for that.”
“And what if Officer Brown shows up? You know he goes to church every Sunday right?” Gloria pointed out as she stepped out of the car. Officer Brown was basically the sheriff of the town. Stocksvill had only a small police force, about twelve men and four women. Of course, since nothing ever really happened in Stocksvill save for the occasional act of teenage vandalism and fights, it really didn’t need a large police force.
“Just flash your tits at him or something,” Dawn replied, dismissing Gloria’s warning.
“Unlike you, I don’t flash my tits at every man I see.” Gloria paused, getting a look from her mother. “Well, OK, maybe if they’re cute or I’m cheerleading, but that’s different.”
“Just keep telling yourself that hon.” Dawn grinned at her daughter. “Hey, look, don’t knock your knockers.” Dawn tapped her own ample chest. “These girls made sure I didn’t buy a single drink all through university. Hell if I had a dollar for every time these caught a guy's attention…well, I’d probably have enough to buy another pair.”
“If they keep sagging the way they have over the last few years, you’ll need to,” Gloria snickered, just loudly enough to carry.
“What was that?” Dawn snapped.
“Oh, you better hurry, or you’re going to be late.” Gloria held up her wrist watch.
“Shit!” Dawn burst into a sprint for the large double doors of the church. “Out of the way, church business!” she cried out as she nearly knocked over an elderly couple.
Gloria laughed, shaking her head. Yes, her mother the nun. How inspirational she was. Watching her mother run through the large twin doors of the church, Gloria took a few steps back to get a better look at the monolithic building that was the church of Stocksvill.
The church had existed almost as long as the town, though it had gone through so many renovationse that little remained of the original building. The earliest version of the church, according to the town historian, was made of wood and big enough for maybe a hundred people in a pinch. Nowadays it was made of brick and could hold as many as 450 people. The building was two stories in height, with two levels for people to sit in, so there was enough room for everybody and they could see the person, usually the mother superior Victoria, giving the weekly sermon.
“And now children, we place the flowers in the ground, like so.” A deep, baritone voice could be heard. Gloria whirled about to her right, smiling. She knew that voice.
“Like this?” A small child, about the age of seven was digging a small hole in the ground. Several other children stood near him, each one with a potted rose.
“That’s right, just like that,” said a large man in a priest’s uniform. Gloria’s smiled broadened. It was Father Louis Stone. Father Stone was a man in his mid forties, and one of the most religious men in town. He was a giant of a man. His only rival in physique and religious devotion was Angus McPhinny. Father Stone's head was clean-shaven, with a black handlebar mustache on his face. He had apparently been in the Canadian Armed Forces for several years, winning more than a few strongman competitions. He was quite the outdoorsman too, being knowledgeable in survival techniques, and usually integrated them flawlessly in his many nature walks with the children as he talked to them about god.
“And, so god is in the flowers?” asked a small girl of about six. She was a cutie for sure.
“God is in all things, child.” Father Stone went to one knee beside her and gave her a slight pat on the head. “God is in the trees, in the wind, in the earth and all it’s many creations. God is even in me and you, though you might not always feel it. However, if you ever doubt that, just remember one thing…” Father Stone stood up, his massive and almost 7 foot tall frame towering over the small girl. With startling speed for a man of such size, Father Stone reached up with both his hands and grabbed a hold of two drawstrings that were situated at either side of his frock's collar. With one massive yank, the frock's collar suddenly expanded until it simply fell off of Father Stone's body, revealing his powerfully muscular bare torso and the jeans he wore underneath as the frock pooled at his feet below.
“LOOK! LOOK AT THESE RIPPLING MUCLES! DO YOU SEE HOW PERFECTLY THEY ARE SHAPED AND PROPORTIONED?” Father Stone's voice, now booming as he bent over slightly, his arms coming together and posing, the muscles on his body rippling and tightening in response to the pose. “ONLY GOD COULD CREATE SOMETHING AS MAGNIFICIANT AS THIS! IF YOU EVER DOUBT IN GOD, THEN REMEMBER THESE POWERFUL PECTORALS, MASSIVE BICEPS, AND IRON FIRM ABS!” As he spoke he took a new pose to show off each muscle group, and the children “ooed” and “ahhed” in response, looking over the hulking man.
Gloria couldn’t help but grin. Father Louis Stone was a bit much, his devotion to God was almost as close as his devotion to bodybuilding. He strongly believed in 1 Corinthians 6:20: “For ye are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's.”
He was a bit on the extreme side but once you got to know him he was a real gentle giant, save when competing with Angus McPhinny. Their fights and competitions were legendary in the town.
Gloria had actually had a bit of a crush on Father Stone when she was younger. Even then he was tearing off his frock and
showing off his muscles. While the church had tried to get him to stop, it quickly became apparent that was not going to happen, so they figured out a design that would let him take his frock off without actually tearing it off. After that pretty much everyone was happy.
“Oh for the love of Peter, Louis, put your frock back on!” Dawn cried out as she walked up beside Gloria.
“I apologize. I was just showing these children the magnificence of God.” Father Stone said, picking his frock back up and sliding it back over his body.
“Whatever. Just keep it in your frock.” Dawn gave Louis a dismissive wave and started back towards the car, Gloria walking with her. “I swear, I don’t know how they let him teach the Sunday school with the children and not be afraid of lawsuits.”
“Father Stone is harmless. And the children love him. And God have mercy on any man, woman or creature that threatens his children.” Gloria smiled. It was true though. One of the many stories involving Father Louis Stone involved him lifting a young punk off his feet (after the clergyman had shed his shirt of course) when the guy had refused to watch his profanity around his children during a break from Stone's regular routine when he had taken them into town for ice cream. Several of the punk's friends took offense to that. Father Stone then told the children to go into the ice cream parlor, and he and the punks disappeared out of view around the side of the building. Gloria had actually been one of the children present during that experience, and while she had not seen any blood or fighting, she had watched as a garbage can, a stray cat, and a beaver (nobody was really sure where the beaver had came from) went flying from the side of the window out of the alley beside the store. A few minutes later, Father Stone had come back, his usual cheerful self, and took the children back to the church. Those punks decided after that to do one year worth of community service for the church (Father Stone actually helped them with this task, and apparently they all became good friends), and had lived their lives respectfully and productively afterwards. Even Dawn knew she had to be careful around Stone as far as his children were concerned, hence why she used the word “Peter” instead of “Fuck” or “Christ”. “Besides, I thought you liked large, muscular men.”
“I do, but with him, it’s like over exposure or something.” Dawn unlocked her car. “I’m going to move the vehicle to someplace a little less ticket friendly. I’ll see you after services honey.” Dawn paused mid-way opening her door. “Oh, hello Tad.” Dawn’s voice was neutral. However, to those who new her, Dawn didn’t have a neutral voice. Her voice only sounded neutral. And that voice was reserved for people she didn’t like, yet didn’t want to openly say she didn’t like. It was reserved for few people, Tad being one of them.
“Hello Miss Rose.” Came the familiar voice of Tad Taylor. Gloria turned around to see her boyfriend and several of his friends standing behind him.
Tad was a good looking guy. To be honest, he was gorgeous. He had deep blue eyes and short blond hair. He stood six feet tall and was well muscled, not to mention fast, as was required of the team quarterback. He was the king of the high school, and he knew it. On top of his arrogance he had a bad temper, and when angry he could be just downright nasty and mean. He wasn’t afraid to use his fists either, as far as other guys went, and was even meaner and more willing to fight if he had a few drinks in him. He had never hit Gloria though. Perhaps that was the one reason, save his good looks and social status, why they still dated on and off again. Yes, the high school hierarchy sucked, but it was where she was.
“Well, I’m going to find a parking spot. I’ll see you later.” Dawn ignored Tad calling her Miss Rose, something Dawn hated. Despite that fact that Tad’s father had been her husband's best friend, Dawn had always disliked both Tad and his mother. Of course, Tad’s mother was the biggest bitch in Stocksvill, so pretty much everybody disliked her.
“Hey babe, how’s my little Glory Hole doing?” Tad grinned, moving forward and wrapping his hands around the small of Gloria’s back, pressing her to him.
“Don’t call me that.” Gloria smiled, but she spoke through her teeth. She hated that nickname with a passion. Tad had given it to her after a particular incident that shall never be mentioned, and much to Gloria’s frustration it had stuck. At least nobody called Gloria that to her face, save Tad. He thought it was cute. She thought he was a dick for doing it despite her telling him not to. Ah, weren’t political unifications grand?
Tad for his part didn’t seem to be put off by Gloria’s thinly veiled anger, and leaned in for a kiss.
“Whoa now.” Gloria smiled, turning her head slightly to avoid Tad’s lips. Gloria knew Tad wasn’t going to kiss her as a form of affectionate greeting. It wasn’t his style. Tad was trying to kiss her for show for his posse, which meant it would be hard and sloppy as well as shallow. While Gloria did have a bit of an exhibitionist streak in her (no doubt inherited from her mother), she hated being used as a trophy. Of course, she couldn’t just come out and say that. High school politics dictated otherwise. “You’ll smear my lipstick.”
“You can put more on.” Tad leaned over again, not being one to be deterred easily. Tad was not used to being denied something and Gloria was one of the few people who were willing to say “no” to him.
“I don’t have anymore on me.” Her tone playful as she gave Tad a firm smack on the ass. That was a lie, and Tad knew that. He also knew though, that the little smack on the backside was a warning disguised as playful flirting. It was telling Tad that if he persisted, there was going to be a scene in front of his friends. Her little lie about the lipstick was her way of letting him save face, and when it came to high school, keeping face was essential. Yes, Gloria had gotten very good at high school politics.
“Heh, fine.” Tad let her go; smiling as though it had been his decision.
“So, what brings you to church?” Gloria looked at Tad innocently. Of course, she already had a pretty good idea, but she thought she would ask anyway.
Tad was part of the minority in town who weren’t Christian. Tad’s mother was a devout and very vocal atheist, despite the fact she had married Tad’s father who was Christian. She had made sure that her son was just as much an atheist and just as critical of the Christian faith as she was.
“I just thought we could hang out for a bit before you go to church.” Tad shrugged. Translation: Tad wanted a quickie. Or at the very least a blow job in the woods.
Gloria however, wasn’t in the mood. “Sorry Tad, but the guys are going to be here soon.” When she said “the guys”, there was little question as to whom she meant.
Tad frowned. He had never liked the fact that Gloria was so willing to associate with those “beneath her” in the high school social structure. Alicia was OK, as she was an athlete. Mandy was at least somewhat acceptable, because it was felt that the socially elite should be able to find an intelligent person to help them with school work, or in some cases, do the work for them. Rod, however, didn’t bring anything to the table as far as Tad was concerned. Hewas an albatross around Gloria’s neck that she refused to get rid of. Tad had always been hostile towards Rod, but it had never escalated too far because he was under Gloria’s protection. If that protection ever faltered though, Gloria was sure Tad would not hesitate to beat Rod up.
“So ditch them for a while. It’s not like you won’t see them in church.” Tad gave her his most charming smile, which truth be told, was very charming and had won him the hearts, and beds, of more than a few girls.
“I don’t ditch my friends.” Gloria’s eyes narrowed as she took a step forward and pressed a delicate finger into his muscled chest. She looked up at him, her eyes staring directly into his as she spoke. “I NEVER ditch my friends.” She didn’t say anything for a moment, letting her words sink in as she held his gaze. She then spun on her heel and walked off.
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